Whiskey Lullaby
by Harley Quinn 904
Summary: And, the Angels sang a Whiskey Lullaby. Rated T for character death


**A/N: Remix of Kate and Ari's death to fit the song. I guess, you could say that here, they're in love...**

**It's very OOC, for many reasons, just a heads up though.**

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><p><em>She put him out like the burnin' end of a midnight cigarette<br>She broke his heart, he spent his whole life tryin' to forget  
>We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time<br>But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind  
>Until the night<em>

Ari arched his back into the couch, slowly pulling the cigarette from his mouth and giving it a long blow. She always told him that it would one day kill him, but right now, it didn't matter.

He ran an evenly tanned hand through his dirty brown- almost black- hair, and took a long drag. He scraped the edges of the cigarette on the bottom of his shoe, and walked to the window, where he casually tossed the butt out onto the street, and then rummaged through the back of the fridge, looking for the beer he kept in there.

Beer after beer, he started to breath heavily, and he slammed an empty bottle against the chipping sheet rock, his lungs heaving with anger.

Distroying the inside of his fridge, he found a stash of strong bottles of whiskey. Pulling one out, he filled an empty shot glass, and slurped it, realizing it was just a little bit thick. Leaving a fuzzy feeling, that danced along his tounge. He cleared his throat, and filled the glass again. Dumping it into his mouth. The feeling, crossing his tounge again.

_She never liked that feeling_ He thought to himself. _Damn_ He also thought. Everything he did reminded him of what she thought he was.

Taking a deep breath, he tilted the bottle into his mouth, drinking 'till the very bottom was dry.

_He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger_  
><em>And finally drank away her memory<em>  
><em>Life is short but this time it was bigger<em>  
><em>Than the strength he had to get up off his knees<em>  
><em>We found him with his face down in the pillow<em>  
><em>With a note that said I'll love her till I die<em>  
><em>And when we buried him beneath the willow<em>  
><em>The angels sang a whiskey lullaby<em>

His hand itched, and it itched bad. He scratched with his stubs of nails until it blead. He groaned and reached for a steak knife, running it over his partial wound. It hurt, but it stopped the itching. He sliced a part of skin, just a little lower than his first gash, and watched the blood run down his arm. He decided that red was a good color for him

His hand itched again. But not a scratching itch, more like an antsy twitch. He wiggled his fingers, and closed them into a fist, and stiffly back to an open hand. Then, he eyed the pistol on his table.

_NO, _he told himself. His mind said one thing, but his body said another. He tried to fight the urge to pick it up, but he wasn't strong enough, or sober enough.

He picked it up and his finger trembled on the trigger. Pointed at the wall, he shot a clean hole through the sheet rock, above where pieces of glass stuck to the paint, where he smashed the bottle.

Breathing deeply, he sat with the gun between his legs, hands on the trigger, pointed above his left eye.

He put it down, to scribble a note to her in his best loopy cursive writing.

_"I will love you, until the day I die, nomatter what._

_-Ari~"_

He peered down the barrel of the gun, poised how he was earlier, and in one swift motion, he pulled the trigger.

_la la la la la la la la la la la la la la_

_The rumors flew but nobody knew how much she blamed herself_  
><em>For years and years, she tried to hide the whiskey on her breath<em>  
><em>She finally drank her pain away a little at a time<em>  
><em>But she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind<em>  
><em>Until the night<em>

Caitlin Todd balled up in her darkly colored, navy blue room. Tears welled up in her hazey brown eyes, and dripped down, staining her rosey pink cheeks with pail, wet lines.

Grabbing her coat, she walked to his house, not minding that it was a two mile walk. When she got there, she noticed that the door was left unlocked. Bottles of full whiskey stood on their side. In attemp to obtain something of his, she gulped the whiskey in brave heeps. Knowing that she didn't like the feel, but she didn't care. He did, and it reminded her of him so much that it hurt.

It was her fault. All her fault, and she didn't want to admit it, but she knew it was true.

_She put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger_  
><em>And finally drank away his memory<em>  
><em>Life is short but this time it was bigger<em>  
><em>Than the strength she had to get up off her knees<em>  
><em>We found her with her face down in the pillow<em>  
><em>Clinging to his picture for dear life<em>  
><em>We laid her next to him beneath the willow<em>  
><em>While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby<em>

Seeing the hole in the wall, she looked for a gun.

It was set down neatly on his pillow, where an everlasting head print would stay.

She ran her hand over the bloody pistol, and dug the barrel into the back of her hand and forced the trigger to work. She flinched at the icy cold sting piercing her skin, and she screamed, not too loud to notify the neighbors. Just enough that she knew it hurt.

She dragged the gun a little further up her arm, around her wrist, took a deep breath and pulled the trigger again. Warm blood spilled through the wound, and she watched it stain the carpet.

She got up, and looked around his house. A picture of them stood alone on his desk

She scooped it up in her arms, and her tears dropped and smeared along the protective glass.

The bed seemed to beg her to lay down, so she did, bringing the gun with her, even though she knows she shouldn't. But she can't help the sadness growing within her.

Leaving a tear stain on the pillow, and reaching to the sole picture for comfort, she hated everything.

Without thinking, the gun in her hand rose to just a little below the ear, tilted upwards, and she stole one last breath before pulling the trigger.

_la la la la la la la la la la la la la la_

_la la la la la la la la la la la la la la_

_la la la la la la la la la la la la la la_

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><p><strong>AN: Well, told you it was OOC...I mean...VERY OOC...But, I would still like you to review because I would still like to know how I did...**

**So...Review!**


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